


To A Slow Decline

by orphan_account



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-02
Updated: 2010-07-02
Packaged: 2017-10-10 08:55:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Storm of Swords, Beric and Thoros have both kind of accepted that the latter can constantly resurrect the former. But I'm sure at the very beginning there was a moment in the beginning where both were absolutely dumbfounded.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To A Slow Decline

**Author's Note:**

> Written a little over year ago when I was absolutely plagued by Beric plot bunnies. Poor zombie Robin Hood. Also, Thoros and Beric have an epic bromance. It is known.

When Beric Dondarrion's eyes opened and his breath returned, Thoros of Myr's initial reaction was not one of relief or reverence. Instead his first instinct was that of distinct fear. For the barest fraction of a second, he was tempted to snatch at a nearby dagger and stab his friend in the heart. Sure enough, this impulse gave way almost immediately, and Thoros could only marvel, in mute disbelief, at the miracle he had inadvertently worked. 

The kiss of life had only been a _gesture_. Sincerely meant, to be sure; Beric had proved to be a surprisingly entertaining companion, both in King's Landing and during their mission for Lord Stark. Nevertheless, the religious ritual had never succeeded in the past, not even when enacted by the countless priests that surpassed Thoros in devotion to R'hllor. 

_Is the Lord of Light here, after all? Even in this land of the Seven?_

As Dondarrion regained consciousness, the man had _laughed_. Or was in the process of it, had the effort of doing so not caused him extreme pain. (Resurrection or not, Beric still had been stabbed in the chest only a day ago.) What the curtailed laugh intended to convey, Thoros could not say.

"Be careful, friend," he warned Beric. He moved a little closer, to ensure that his movements had not disturbed the bandages and worsened the injury. 

"Thoros, I imagined that I died," Beric said, more subdued now, though there was something in his voice...

"You did." Thoros said, still too astounded to lie. "I saw it happen, though I tried to prevent it." He was still covered in blood; the end result of that endeavor. 

Beric was silent for so long, that Thoros grew afraid again. And then his response; "How?" 

The god's kiss," he said. Beric would know the meaning of that. He'd asked many questions about Thoros's faith during the dull portions of their journey. "R'hllor brought you back. Not me." He was a flawed conduit, but the Lord of Light had used him all the same.

Beric had been attempting to move, to sit up, but lay still once he realized his wound would let him do nothing more. "I suppose that makes sense." 

"Why do you say that?" Thoros had his suspicions, though. "Did you see-"

"What comes after death? Perhaps." 

"Well?" He couldn't help but wonder. 

From Beric there was the slightest of sighs. "Nothing. Not the hells, or a paradise, or darkness. Just-"

"Nothing," Thoros echoed, suddenly fearing death for the first time in his life.

His friend was concerned with other matters, though. "I dreamt many deaths. True?"

Thoros could only nod his head. Their losses still weighed heavily upon. "Unfortunately so, my lord. Many of our numbers are now gone." 

"Was Edric Dayne among them?" Dondarrion asked, suddenly alert.

"No. He guarded you when you fell, but-" 

"But they though I had already died?" There was the suggestion of a smile on his lips. "I'm glad he is unharmed. She would never have forgiven me if it had been otherwise." 

Thoros thought he knew of whom Beric spoke, but he was uncertain. "Who?" 

"The woman who I am going to marry." There was a pause. "From House Dayne. Ned's aunt." 

It was almost a question, though he knew Beric would not allow himself to ask it. "Allyria Dayne?" He suggested, carefully. 

"Yes." Some of Beric's self assurance returned. "Forgive me. I think the circumstances makes me forgetful."

"That is understandable," Thoros agreed. "You should rest and not tax yourself speaking with me right now."   
He couldn't stave off certain unwelcome musings, however. The betrothal of Beric to Lady Allyria had been one measure to subdue the Daynes. And yet, unaccountably, real affection existed between the two. Or, at least, Beric seemed fond of her. He spoke of her incessantly, possibly without realizing it. 

And he had never forgotten her name.

Thoros banished these thoughts. _It's not my place to question the Lord of the Light_.


End file.
